The Export by J.K. Kelly (read along books txt) 📕

The drunk in the red t-shirt lunged at Eve. Matt kept his eyes trained on the second one, this one in black, while Eve dispatched her attacker with three quick blows. Seeing his friend hit the cobblestones, his teeth crashing and breaking much like the bottles had, the man in black charged Eve. Admiring her moves and guessing she needed no help, Matt took a step to the right and let her work her magic a second time.

Meanwhile, there was no need for either of them to watch the man in red. He was out cold, probably in need of a doctor. The local police soon broke through the crowd of tourists and shop owners. They arrived just in time to see the man in black acting as the aggressor and Eve, in self-defense. The police handcuffed the one drunk and called an ambulance for the other, while the crowd applauded the young woman for standing up to the local bullies. Matt stood back in amazement, quietly clapping as well.

Eve smiled at the crowd and raised clasped hands as if she had just won a championship-boxing match.

“Do you need us to make a statement, officer?” Matt asked a patrolman.

“No, this is the third time we’ve had to deal with these two this summer. In Salzburg, we have a saying, just like in America, ‘three strikes and you are out.’ They will be heading for at least six months in jail for this behavior.”

While Eve spoke with two of the bystanders who had admired her handiwork, Matt felt his phone vibrate and checked it for news. It was from Sam Horton in Jackson Hole.

HEY MC—YOU EVER COMING BACK? DID THE DOC SAY YOUR BLOOD TESTS WERE OKAY? I HAD A DREAM HELENE CAME AND KICKED BOTH OUR ASSES FOR NOT TAKING HER TO THE TETONS. LET ME KNOW WHEN WE’LL SEE YOU AGAIN.

Matt texted back:

OVERSEAS ON A BUSINESS TRIP. BACK SOON. DOC SAID AOK.

Eve smiled at Matt. She had noticed the look of surprise in his eyes.

“You going to buy me dinner for saving your ass?” she quipped.

He smiled back. “Pick the place!”

Eve checked the menus of outdoor cafes as they walked along the street. Matt kept replaying in his mind everything that was still unknown. Had the Nepalese police caught the Base Camp killer? Why did his aunt initiate her ring signal? Were the deaths of Thomas Sinclair and Sarah Sinclair Wilkerson connected in any way? And were these hitmen after just him, or was Charlie at risk as well?

“Hey, I like this one,” Eve called out from the front of an Italian-themed café.

“Prego!” Matt responded and joined her for what he hoped would be a relaxing dinner date with a happy ending.

After she had finished two bottles of wine on her own, and Matt was knocking back his traditional six glasses of draft beer, they walked arm in arm toward their hotel.

“Lasagna, garlic bread, meatballs, and tiramisu. Did we really eat all of that?”

She laughed. “I think you call it carb loading. You know, before a big, long climb. Yes?” she teased.

Matt shook his head and rubbed his belly.

“So, where did you learn those dance moves?” he asked, changing the subject. She looked confused.

“Oh yes, the alley fight. My father taught me that I should never depend on a man for anything. And never to let a man put his hands on me. He sent me for martial arts training. I felt empowered, and I just liked it. So, I pursued other forms of self-defense, as well as yoga and mountain climbing, to stay in shape.”

Matt thought he’d heard her correctly but was confused by the last bit. They’d arrived back at the hotel, and he hit the elevator button in the lobby.

“You’re into mountain climbing?” he asked with surprise. “You never told me that.”

“Oh, yes, I love it. I’ve been to the Canadian Rockies, the Matterhorn, Kilimanjaro, and Denali.”

Matt was jealous. He’d only been to half those sites, but he’d also been to the mother of them all. When the elevator arrived, Matt stepped in after her.

“Last spring,” she said with pride, “I made it to Everest for the first time. It was a beautiful experience that I will never forget. I couldn’t climb for the summit because of my eyes, but I spent time at Base Camp and got to know a lot of really interesting characters up there.”

Matt’s heart sank. He was looking straight at her, and there was nothing but enthusiasm in her voice and expression. The only tell was that she was telling the truth. Once inside their room, they did as young couples do on vacation. They watched television until Eve excused herself and then came back and stood in the bedroom doorway, wearing only a smile.

Half a dozen ill-timed thoughts flashed through his mind. Before him stood a beautiful young woman with a French accent, who knew her way around an ice ax, was into mountain climbing, and might have been on Everest around the time a man had been killed by someone whose description she resembled. And yet…

She’s not a killer. No way! he told himself.

And with that, he turned off the lights and joined her in the next room.

Early the next morning, before Eve woke up, Matt texted his old friend Amir in Kathmandu. He asked a simple question:

DID YOU CATCH THE ICE AX KILLER?

He hoped for a fast answer that would relieve him of troubling thoughts.

The alarm on her phone went off right at eight, later that morning, and Eve voiced her excitement over their plans for the day. While she took a shower, Matt checked his phone. Amir had answered:

NO, MY FRIEND. NO LEADS. COLD CASE NOW.

DON’T DRINK TOO MUCH. COME SEE US AGAIN.

Matt sighed. Feeling only a little guilty, he dug Eve’s passport out of her luggage and opened it. There was a Nepalese visa stapled to one of the inside pages of the ID. His heart sank. She had